


Ladies

by strikecommanding



Series: tumblr fucking sucks [8]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 12:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 12,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikecommanding/pseuds/strikecommanding
Summary: An import of all the pieces I've written for female heroes on tumblr. Each chapter summary will include the prompt and warnings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Prompt: S/o who sings as a hobbie and the character finds out by accident? (whoever you feel this fit best)
> 
> contains: kidnapping, captivity

It’s exactly because she loves you that Moira confines you to a cage in her laboratory, just like a specimen. Those on the outside looking in might not see any affection in that decision, but there’s no greater love in her eyes. As a scientist, she devotes herself to her work. By placing you among the other samples in her lab, she hopes you can see that you’re the most treasured specimen of all.

Though, she supposed she could see how you would tire of such bleak living conditions. Surrounded by her research, all of the wondrous things she has done for the advancement of humanity, and not being allowed out to really observe any of it. It made sense that you would do what you could to make time pass a bit more pleasurably.

Moira was delighted that your hobby was pleasurable for her as well.

Generally, Moira’s lab was dead quiet, save for the whirring of machines and the occasional cries of her other specimens. It was her preference to work in silence so that she wouldn’t be disturbed. So she was quick to identify the abnormal sound she heard on the way to her lab that morning.

You were singing. It was soft from where Moira was, but she didn’t dare attempt to get closer. Knowing you, you’d probably clam up the second you were aware of her presence. Instead, she enjoyed what she heard from a distance, closing her eyes as she imagined what you must have looked like right now, how sensually your lips must have moved with every note.

She didn’t recognize the piece you were singing. Then again, she didn’t typically listen to music; such folly never captured her interest before. But the sweet melodies leaving your mouth held her full attention now. It was amazing that you could sound like that after all the screaming and crying you’d done before you adjusted to your situation here. In spite of it all, your voice was impeccable.

When you finished, she stepped out and clapped, savoring the way you flinched upon seeing her. Her lips curled into a smirk as she looked you over, her sweet, caged canary looking like a deer in headlights in the presence of your master. As she approached you, you backed up in your cage to create some distance.

Moira squatted down and opened the door to your cage, leaning in just the slightest bit to make sure you knew how futile your actions were. “I heard you.”

Unsure how to respond, you simply squirmed.

Her eyes flickered over your body’s every movement before she commanded, “Come here.”

You knew better than to keep her waiting, so you eventually slinked out after a moment’s hesitation. You tensed when she grabbed your arms and pulled you into her lap, right on the laboratory floor, and your first thought was that you were going to be punished. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? You sounded beautiful,” she praised you, fingers tracing over your skin. You shivered at her touch. Gently, she coaxed your legs apart and began rubbing your bare sex. She heard your breath catch in your throat as she lowered her lips to your ear and nibbled on your soft flesh. “Now let me see if I can’t get you to really sing.”

“M-Moira,” you stammered, trembling hands shooting back to grab onto her lab coat. You weren’t exactly resisting, but your constant wriggling was giving her a hard time. “Please, I…”

“Be still, pet,” she hissed, her patience already wearing thin. As one hand continued stroking and rubbing between your legs, the other went up to seize you by the throat. Her fingers lightly drummed over your skin as she felt you swallow. “Or else I might be tempted to slice your throat open and examine your wondrous vocal cords more directly.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: An s/o who comes off as mouthy and strong-willed, but the moment things turn sexual, they're a malleable puddle of goo.
> 
> contains: sadism, face sitting

It was shameful to admit considering her status, but even a pro like Hana was still susceptible to getting frustrated during a game. It was especially difficult when she slipped into one of these moods while she was streaming. She was renowned for her charisma and overall good attitude while she streamed, so she didn’t want anyone to know that these consecutive bad matches were getting to her. But the chat was flooding with a few snarky comments that were hard to ignore.

Wearing her carefree smile as always, Hana glanced up at her webcam and said, “I’m gonna take a quick break, you guys! Be back in about 15 minutes.”

Turning off the camera and setting the screen to a static image of her logo drawn by a fan, Hana tried to push the chat’s various jeers from the forefront of her mind. Despite her best efforts, they remained, and they only served to piss her off even more. She didn’t want to return to the stream with this negative attitude, so she sought her most effective form of stress relief.

You looked up with a hard glare as the door to your room was pushed open by none other than your captor. Hana could feel her bad mood lightening already just from seeing the look on your face. “Hey, cutie.”

Predictably, you didn’t respond. You just scowled at her from the spot on the ground to which she had you chained.

Smiling even wider now, Hana approached you, her eyes tracing over every scar and bruise that marred your bare skin. Inflicting some form of injury on you was always such an immense pleasure of hers, but she had neither the time nor the patience to play with you as she would have liked. She needed quicker stress relief than that. “How’s it going?”

“How do you think?” you spat back, not even flinching as she came to stand before you. Even at her height, she towered over you when you were in a heap on the floor. Regardless, you weren’t intimidated as she peered down at you.

Stooping just enough to squish your cheeks, she praised you. “You know, I love your fight and all, but I just don’t have the time for it right now. Right now, I just need you to do what I want you to do.”

She jabbed her fingers square in the middle of your chest, pushing you down so you fell flat on your back. Before you could gather yourself, Hana knelt down and placed her thighs on either side of your head, straddling your face. Your eyes blew wide as she pulled the seat of her panties aside, exposing her cunt just inches away from your mouth. You were so stunned that the most protest you could manage came in the form of a weak stammer. “W-wh–”

“Oh?” Hana tilted her head, almost as surprised as you to see an expression other than stubborn resentment on your face. For once, you looked genuinely scared, and it fed Hana’s sadism like nothing else before. A crooked smirk slowly spreading across her face, she hooked a thumb over your jaw and lowered herself onto your tongue.

Whatever you tried to say next was promptly muffled as she sat on your face fully, grinding against your clumsy lips and tongue. Your lack of skill was doing nothing to get her off, but rather, it was the fact that she’d finally found something to snub that fire of rebellion in you that had her absolutely soaked. For a moment, she just wanted to plant her palms on the ground and go at you animalistically, humping your face with fervor as she got herself off to the idea of complete dominance over you. Instead, she decided to see how far she could push you.

Leaning back but never taking her eyes off of your expression, Hana reached between your squirming legs and slipped her hand beneath your underwear. You were undoubtedly aroused, and your whole body trembled at just the ghost of a touch from your captor. When she applied more pressure and began stroking you with an intensity you clearly weren’t used to, you whined, high and pathetic, against her pussy. Hana’s eyes gleamed with delight as she worked her fingers just right to get your eyes rolling into the back of your head in unwilling euphoria. “You’ve been holding out on me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: okay uh... haven't seen a yandere ow blog write about this kink yet, but can you do something where pre-fall morrison (or any other character you'd like) never lets DFAB!reader cum, and forces them to edge (get to the brink of orgasm then stop) routinely so they're constantly horny and desperate? sorry if this sounds weird
> 
> contains: edging, orgasm denial, electrocution

While it was no secret that Moira’s main interest was in genetics, she found there was no shortage of interesting human functions she could delight in. You, her most treasured little lab rat, fueled her secondary research in how prolonged sexual denial affected the mind.

She’d put a fancy label on it to make the whole exercise of watching you fuck yourself to tears on a daily basis sound just a bit more dignified.

She could hear you already as she approached her private lab, your pitching whines and rattles against your cage bouncing off the walls. You were in a constant state of arousal after weeks of this practice, and those sensations were only heightened by the tell-tale signs that Moira had returned. That you became such a mess at just the sound of her shoes clicking on the ground brought a smug smile to her face.

You were practically crying by the time Moira appeared in front of you. Gripping the thin metal that contained you, naked save for a particular collar around your neck, you squirmed with need and whimpered, “M-Moira, please… can I? Just today, c-can I… please…”

Smirking still, Moira leaned down to open the door to your cage, and she watched you crawl out before her as she sat with a clipboard and pen. Mere props, of course, since she couldn’t be bothered to tear her eyes away from the state of you long enough to take substantial notes. “Go ahead, _acushla_. You know what to do.”

You stared up at her for a moment, eyes wide and desperate, before finally obeying and leaning back. You spread your legs, shaky from being confined in such a small place for so long, and your fingertips immediately dove for the pool of arousal between your thighs. Throwing your head back at the contact, you screamed like you were already well on your way to an orgasm despite having been at it for mere seconds.

Of course, Moira had a way of keeping you in line. Without taking her eyes off of you, she reached for the table behind her. Between her slender fingers was a remote that you both feared and hated. Other than Moira herself, it was the only thing that consistently stood between you and the peak for which you hungered. Despite the sight of it, your fingers continued swiping over your clit with fervor, your arm aching from the exertion. But at this point, no ache could have possibly surmounted your desperate need for release.

Moira’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit as she observed you beginning to enjoy yourself a little too much, a little more than she would allow. Her thumb ghosted over a particular button on the remote, but she didn’t use it just yet. Instead, she called out your name in a low but firm voice of warning. “Know your limit, pet.”

You heard her, barely, but you wanted so badly to defy her. Even more than that, you wanted to cum. So you continued, fingertips furiously stroking your clit as your hips bucked up into them, desperate for any and all stimulation you could possibly find. You were close, so so close…

Moira could see by the clumsy tongue spilled over your bottom lip and the glazed look in your rolled back eyes that you were nearly over the edge, so she grounded you once again without an ounce of hesitation. She clicked the button on the remote, which activated the collar around your neck and sent a few powerful shocks of electricity through your body. Almost instantly, your hands fell from between your legs and lay limp at your sides, jolting only when the currents jolted you. Your wails of pleasure had been reduced to pained gibberish. She had set the voltage a bit higher this time; she couldn’t allow you to cross a line like that without setting forth some consequences.

By the time the volts simmered down to nothing, you were a trembling mess, but no longer from mounting pleasure. A few aftershocks racked your body and you twitched every which way as you realized that you had been robbed yet again. Frustrated, you pathetically beat your fists against the floor on either side of you. The action only pained you and your throbbing muscles that much more, and it reduced you to squirming as you cried out, “No… No! Moira, please…! Please let me cum!”

Moira’s gaze seemed dark when cast upon you, but delight twinkled beneath as she reveled in your absolute despair. “No. Not yet.”

Your fists pounded against the ground again as you bucked your hips up into nothing, sobbing as your body instinctively searched for any stimulation to its neglected nethers. “When?!”

She just smiled and prepared to return you to your cage. “When my research is finished.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: May I have either an NSFW fic or headcannons (whichever you're comfortable with) with non-yandere Moira and a shapeshifter reader? I always thought the possibilities with this sort of idea would be endless!
> 
> contains: fluff, shapeshifting

Quietly humming to herself, Moira bustled around her laboratory as she prepped to get some research done. She buttoned up her labcoat and donned a pair of latex gloves before moving on to gather her subject out of its cage. The rabbit peered up at her curiously, pink nose twitching, as she reached in to grab it by the belly. It went without protest and waited patiently on the lab bench where she left it when she turned around to set up the apparatus necessary for the day’s work.

When she turned back around, Moira couldn’t help but instantly snap her head in a different direction. The sight that greeted her on her lab bench was no longer her little test rabbit, but you, in all your naked glory. Your clothes couldn’t exactly stay on your body whenever you shifted into a smaller being, after all. You grinned at how clearly embarrassed your lover was. “Good afternoon, Moira.”

Moira continued to stare the opposite wall without a word before glancing back at you, pointedly keeping her eyes only on yours. She took a deep breath to regain some composure, but it did nothing for the furious blush on her cheeks. “Stop fooling around in my laboratory when I’m working.”

You jutted your bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout, batting your lashes at her to offer your best puppy dog eyes. “But I just wanted to see you.”

Finally, after getting over the initial shock of finding you naked on her lab bench (a fantasy she would be interested in exploring, if only it weren’t a serious breach of lab safety and protocol), Moira was able to angle her body towards you and look at you head-on. You met her unamused frown with a bright smile, and neither of your expressions budged. You only ceased when she grabbed your cheeks and squeezed your lips into a pucker. “Then just come and see me. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to shapeshift and switch places with a test subject? What if I’d had plans for dissection?”

“What if I said I’d let you?” you countered cheekily, and you got a genuinely disapproving look in response. Quickly, you amended, “Okay, that was a bit dramatic. But I do know you want to learn how I function, and I’m curious to know myself. There’s no one I trust more than you to take a peek inside my body.”

Your sentiment made Moira’s heart beat fast, and only partially because you’d presented the opportunity for her to learn something she was dying to know. For the most part, she was flustered because of the absolute trust you had in her. You caught her off guard with such a sincere and loving declaration that she couldn’t even think of a response other than a frown and a huff. After a moment, she planted her hand on the edge of the bench and nudged a place for her to stand between your legs. Peering down at you through narrowed eyes, she planted a soft kiss against your forehead. “You trust me too much, _acushla_. You really believe your deepest, most intimate parts are safe with me?”

The gasp that left your lips when you felt her hand creep between your thighs was enough to replace her frown with a devilish smirk. The pad of her gloved middle finger found your clit, already starting to swell from the increased blood flow, and began rubbing it relentlessly. Your hand shot up to the lapel of her coat and held on for dear life. “Y-yes,” you breathed.

Hearing you so openly submit to her inspired a certain heat between Moira’s own legs, but internally, her heart was swelling with endless love and adoration for you. You were so trusting, and she would never do anything to betray that trust. Pressing her forehead against yours and ghosting her lips just out of your reach, forcing you to dart forward to capture her in a desperate kiss, she increased the pace of her fingers. “Good girl.”

Your toes curled and you practically leapt off of the bench as she worked you towards a quick and clean release. Moira brought a hand to your jumpy hips and mused it was too late now to think about lab safety, not when you were so needy and cute in the palm of her hands. You gripped her coat tight enough to turn your knuckles white and you squeaked out a soft expletive as your body trembled from a very satisfying orgasm.

As you came down, Moira softly nipped and licked your cheek. You looked up at her through blissed out eyes and angled your lips towards her to silently ask for a kiss. You watched her eyes flutter shut before doing the same, heart beating fast at the feeling of her gentle breaths against your lips. You continued to wait for a kiss that never came, as she instead chose to deadpan, “What did you do with my specimen, _acushla_?”

Her question snapped you out of your dream-like state as you straightened up, pointedly avoiding eye contact. You understood that you were intruding on her research time, but you wished your girlfriend was more conscious of a little thing called ‘atmosphere’, and that she’d be more invested in preserving it. “I… I took him! He’s our pet now, and his name is Henry! You can’t run tests on him now that we’ve named him!”

Moira sighed, not even mustering the energy to question when this had become a conclusion that the both of you arrived at together. Instead, she helped you off of the bench and held you as you regained your footing. “We’ll discuss this later. For now, I’m taking you back to your room, and don’t bother me anymore while I’m working.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Do you think you could do some more Brigitte? Like her cornering a timid s/o who keeps having trouble with the little armor she made them(bonus if reader is kinda short). Low key Brigitte just likes seeing her s/o rely on her so much but does want something for all her hard work (if you catch my drift ;>)
> 
> brigitte lindholm
> 
> contains: dubcon, coercion, manipulation

When you said you looked up to Brigitte and you wanted to be just like her, she humored you, but ultimately didn’t take you seriously. Of course, you were right to admire her, but you were in way over your head to assume you could stand on equal footing with her. In her eyes, you were less of a partner and more of a trophy, a doll for her to dress up and do with as she pleased. And dressing you to her liking was one of her favorite hobbies.

Considering how long Brigitte had been a mechanic, making durable armor that would properly fit your petite figure was child’s play. However, purposely making armor that you would struggle with was easy enough too. It was adorable to watch you wrestle with the clunky pieces of metal, and then ultimately come crawling to her for help. The best part was, you didn’t even suspect her. You idolized her too much to see that she was suiting you for fun rather than practicality.

“Still can’t figure it out?” she observed from the doorway of your bedroom, where you were still trying to suit up on your own. You looked so foolish, and it was endearing to her. “How can you fight alongside me if you can’t even get into your armor on your own?”

Slowly pulling the chestplate away from your body, you looked up and gave a meek smile. “I’m sorry, Brigitte… If I just watch you do it again, I’m sure I’ll be able to do it myself soon.”

Brigitte pushed her hip off of the doorway and approached you, arms folded over her chest. You looked confused as she stripped you of what little armor you did manage to get on, but you stayed silent. You knew better than to question her – just one of the many little things she loved about you. Amused by you but not letting it show on her face, Brigitte murmured, “It wasn’t easy putting this armor together, but I guess I need to revise it since it’s clearly not working for you.”

Your expression fell like the idea she’d just suggested was equivalent to the end of the world. You had a certain tendency to hang onto every one of her words and subsequently blame yourself for just about anything that went wrong, and she exploited that habit mercilessly. “N-no, it’s okay. I can figure it out, I swear.”

That terrified look, like a deer in headlights, was so adorable to Brigitte that it nearly got a smile out of her. However, just to ensure that you’d be completely malleable to her will, she remained impassive. “I do a lot for you, _älskling_. You know that, don’t you?”

You nodded hastily, even picking up her hand and pressing your cheek into her palm as a sign of complete submission. She was motionless at first, but eventually curled her fingers around you and lovingly stroked her thumb across your skin.

“So what’s one more thing? I can fix up this armor, no problem,” she said suddenly, and there was a dramatic shift in her tone and outward demeanor. She was smiling now, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and it didn’t relieve you of your unease. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Brigitte; you did, far more than you probably should have. Your tendency towards self-blame was just that strong, and she worked you out of it strategically to keep you wrapped around her finger. “We’ll just say you owe me, yeah?”

Finally, you allowed yourself to smile, completely oblivious to the masterful way in which you were being manipulated. “Okay! Then, I’ll cook your favorite food tonight!”

She matched your expression as the last bit of armor came off, and even as her hand slipped beneath the hem of your pants. Your eyes shot up to hers, alarmed, but she remained pleasant. “I appreciate that, but… I want a different favor from you tonight.”

“O-oh… okay,” you stammered, your tiny body easily yielding to hers as she pushed you back onto your bed. You kept your hands to yourself, neither reciprocating her touch nor struggling to get away; you were smart enough to submit and just let it happen. “Be gentle, please?”

Brigitte licked her lips as she crawled on top of you, her eyes skimming over your body in a predatory gaze. She dove down to press the flat of her tongue flush against your neck, and she relished in the feeling of your body shivering beneath hers. Your breath caught in your throat when she sank her teeth in just enough to get a nip at your tender flesh. “We’ll see if I feel like that’s all you owe me.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Sorry if this ask isn’t the best. Brigitte and s/o are childhood friends and s/o is very weak and picked on easily. Causing Brigitte to protect them. Years past and Brigitte is in Overwatch and she hears of a new recruit doing well. She finds out it is s/o, and since Brigitte only remembers s/o as a weak shy person she wants to protect s/o at any costs. Even kidnapping.
> 
> contains: obsession, kidnapping

Ever since the two of you were kids, you always thought of Brigitte as the strongest person in the world. The things that had you convinced were small and childish, like how Brigitte was the first to climb a tree to save a stranded kitten or ready to fight off a horde of bullies just to protect you. Regardless, you admired her, and you wanted to be just like her.

You shared a sweet childhood together until Overwatch fell and her father was left without a job, forcing the Lindholm family to move away. She promised that the two of you would meet again one day, but it seemed that was just another childish ideal. As you grew older, you knew how unlikely it was that your paths would ever cross again. Despite that, you shaped your outlook on the world and your vision of yourself around the person Brigitte inspired you to be. When you were still a shy little kid, you were eager to hide behind her back or in her shadow. Now you were strong, and you’d become someone you hoped she would be proud of.

Now more than ever, with humans and omnics at constant odds, it felt like the world needed people who were strong and compassionate. You heard a rumor that Overwatch was being recalled and rebuilt, and you were quick to find a way to get yourself recruited. Your main reason, you told yourself, was to protect the world and bring peace between two warring species. But deep down, you knew your heart ached to see Brigitte again, and your best bet of finding her was through her father’s old line of work.

As it turned out, even as an illegal group under the current laws, Overwatch was still huge. You were just one of many young, bright-eyed new recruits who wanted to help restore this fallen organization to its former glory. Finding Brigitte, if she were here at all, wasn’t going to be easy. You went through the motions of starting at the bottom and quickly became wrapped up in proving yourself in order to rise through the ranks. Your dedication and hard work paid off, giving you a good reputation around base.

It wasn’t until you’d been with Overwatch for a couple of months that you finally saw her. Beautiful auburn hair tied back, and dozens of tiny freckles that looked like an explosion of stars across rosy skin. This was Brigitte, you were certain of it; the one thing you didn’t remember was her impressive muscles. It occurred to you that, while you were working hard to grow stronger, Brigitte never stopped. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you took in the sight of her.

To your joy, Brigitte was just as ecstatic to see you again. The moment your eyes met and they sparked with mutual recognition, she sprinted across the room to you and gathered you up in her arms, making you blush even harder. Her embrace was so tight, so full of love, like she was afraid the two of you would be separated again if she even thought about letting go. Once she finally did, however, the two of you took some well-deserved time to catch up.

It turned out she joined Overwatch not only to follow in her father’s footsteps, but also because, in its current state, the world was truly in need of more heroes. In this sense, she was just like the Brigitte you remembered: noble and always ready to help those in need. The conversation was pleasant until she realized you were here not as a scientist or medic or some other relatively safe job on the backlines, but as a soldier. Her smile fell and the mirth disappeared from her face in an instant, and she asked you if you were sure this was the right fit for you.

You took it as a simple overreaction on her part, ensuring her that you weren’t the same wimpy little kid she’d grown up with. You were stronger now, and you wanted to prove that to her. Seeing you light up like that brought a smile back to her face, but it was a shaky one at best. Eventually, she agreed that you were grown now, and that she was probably just worried about you out of instinct. You promised to dazzle her if ever the two of you ended up on a mission together.

As it turned out, the higher you rose in rank, the more you were sent out on the field together. To fight alongside the girl you’d admired ever since you were a child yourself sounded like a fulfilling opportunity, but it quickly proved to be anything but. Brigitte was… oddly suffocating whenever she was out with you. She worried about you to the point of fussing, and it was like she cared more about you than about the mission. It was touching at first, but, as much as you hated to say it, it was becoming a nuisance. You couldn’t get anything done if things carried on this way.

Your next mission together involved a team, so you hoped to use that to your advantage. The team had to split into separate groups, and you tried your damnedest to be separated from Brigitte. She seemed hurt by your suggestion, and it hurt you in turn, but her constant coddling was preventing you from honing your abilities as a soldier. Once your group split up, your mind was entirely focused on the mission.

In your haste to prove yourself as an individual soldier, you ended up away from your group and surrounded by enemies in an ambush. You held your own until backup arrived, but not before taking quite the beating. You were practically delirious, lying in a pool of your own blood on the ground as your whole team came to your aid. Among the group was Brigitte, and the look of heartbroken dread in her eyes was the last thing you saw before you passed out.

— 

You were starting to come to, your eyes slowly fluttering open to see a blank ceiling overhead. When you realized you were lying flat on your back, you looked around to find that you were in what appeared to be a hospital bed. Further examination of your surroundings led you to a figure sitting right beside you, whom you quickly recognized as Brigitte.

She cut off your quiet attempt to call out to her with a shout of your name. She quickly rose to her feet, her eyes tracing every inch of you with concern. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

You took in a deep breath to prepare a response only to wince at a sharp pain in your ribcage. The sensation reminded you of what led you here and you were quick to wheeze out, “What happened to the mission?”

Her initially gentle expression hardened as she furrowed her brows and bared her teeth in a scowl. “Don’t worry about that right now. You need to rest.”

Slowly, memories of your botched mission came back to you and you remembered that, while you’d managed to fend off enemies, you failed to actually meet your objective. You started pushing yourself out of bed as quickly as you could in your condition. “I feel fine, Brigitte. But I need to go–”

In an instant, she crossed to the other side of the bed and pushed you back down into it, perhaps with more force than she needed. You fell back down with a gasp and you were forced to lie completely still for a moment in order to give your lungs a break. There was a flash of remorse in Brigitte’s expression, but she remained firmly where she stood, keeping you from getting out of bed a second time. “I told you, you’re not fit for a life of combat. You’re too delicate, too… soft.”

The way her voice lingered on that last word right as her hand came up to stroke your cheek unsettled you to no end, causing you to pull away from her. You took that moment to look at anything that wasn’t her, and you realized that this room looked nothing like the medbay back on base. Rather than a bright, sterile space with multiple hospital beds and other staff members bustling around, your surroundings were bleak, bare, and unfamiliar. Your bed and the scattered pieces of medical devices around you all looked terribly out of place in what could pass for a prison cell. “Where… where is this?”

She crossed her arms defensively, like she felt attacked by your query. “Those people… they couldn’t protect you. _No one_ can protect you like I can. So… I’ve made a place for just you and me, where I can properly watch over you.”

While she was talking, you noted the distinct lack of windows in this room and your lungs kicked into overdrive just to support your panic-induced hyperventilating. You made one more futile attempt to get out of bed and push past her, but she was faster and stronger than you. The moment you made a single move she didn’t like, she pushed you back down by your shoulders, this time with so much more force than before. Just to show you how serious she was, she seized you by the throat and made you look up into her bloodshot eyes.

“Just let everything go back to how they used to be,” she spat through gritted teeth. “Let me be your shield.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Sup strike, i don't know if you do omegaverse stuff? I don't want to make you search for this but if you already know about it could you write about yandere alpha!fareeha knotting her fem s/o who happens to be small so the knot feels too big and uncomfortable, please? Thank you!
> 
> contains: a/b/o dynamics/omegaverse, noncon

You were the perfect mate in Fareeha’s eyes. Gentle, soft-spoken, and loving – everything she had in mind for the partner she wanted to raise her pups. But, just as she had her eyes on you, she didn’t doubt that others had taken notice of your beauty as well. She didn’t want to have to rush you into anything, but at the same time, she couldn’t sit idly by and allow someone else to take what she believed was rightfully hers.

Even if you weren’t ready for a life like this, Fareeha was. She had your shared domestic life perfectly envisioned in her mind, and she decided when it was time to make that dream a reality. She didn’t even allow your heat to come naturally so she could swoop in and capitalize on it; rather, she isolated you from anyone else and forced some supplemental hormones into your system. Despite your mental fortitude and overall resistance, the hormones worked like a charm and you couldn’t overcome your body’s natural urge to submit.

The anticipation of it all had been enough to work the alpha into a state of arousal, but actually watching you writhe and squirm and cry for some comfort threw her into a full-blown rut. Fareeha was on you instantly, forcing your face down into the floor below and pulling your backside up against her pelvis. While you were blubbering and sobbing something akin to protests, your body couldn’t deny its primal desire to be filled with the heat of an alpha. Your body wanted it so bad, in fact, that she sank into you with ease.

At first, the stretch followed by her persistent thrusts hurt. The feeling of her fingernails digging into the meat of your waist hurt. And yet, somehow, you didn’t want her to stop. The more rational side of you that could see how demeaning and terrifying your current situation was, but your instincts were screaming for more of this treatment. Your body understood better than you did. As an omega, you were simply following nature’s design for you.

You looked over your shoulder through tear-blurred eyes to see Fareeha’s broader frame easily enveloping yours. She caught your gaze and leaned down to try to capture your lips with her own, but you staunchly refused a kiss. It was a valiant effort on your part until her hand found your jaw and forced you to return her affection, and then you gave in with ease. In this state, your body was a fiend for this sort of attention, but your rationale was less than pleased. You knew that you didn’t want this, but you were powerless to stop your own body from welcoming it.

As if to compound just how little control you had over the situation, Fareeha’s slender, dexterous fingers brushed your hair aside and lingered over the back of your neck. Your scent glands were perfectly exposed to her, and you quivered beneath the intensity of her stare. She leaned down and teased you with the ghost of a bite as she murmured, “Your scent, your body, and your future… all of this is mine.”

You wanted to scream at her in protest, but opening your mouth resulted in little more than an enthusiastic moan. The sound must have spurred her on further, encouraging her to lean in and mark you with a painful bite. Even through the physical and emotional sting of being bonded to a mate you didn’t choose, you couldn’t help but mewl with pleasure. This, along with the knot growing inside of you, was what your body craved.

“I’m coming,” she gritted into your ear, and it was only then that you could gain the sense to shake your head no. You were stilled by a strong grip that secured itself around your chin, forcing you to focus on the sensation of being filled. The sudden gush of liquid heat within you made you gasp softly, but the persistent growth of her knot nudging at your tight entrance hurt so bad you could scream.

Pathetically, your arms reached back to bat ineffectually at Fareeha’s hips. “Hurts, it hurts! Pull out, please!”

“You know I can’t do that,” she replied, kissing your neck as if this tenderness would erase all of the pain. Then she exacerbated that pain with a rough thrust that shoved her knot even deeper into you. You let out an agonized cry, which she silenced with her palm over your mouth. “You need to endure. If you can’t even handle this, how will you carry our children?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: I didnt know you did the female characters too! I was so excited when I saw it! Could I request something with Mercy? maybe with a fem s/o afraid of doctors? Mercy just wants to help with the check ups, the medicine but s/o just starts crying and begging when needles or pills get near her/becoming pliant and faint when she's forced to get a shot? please ignore this if its too make tysm
> 
> contains: mommy kink, medical play, fear of needles

You were such a skittish little thing, and that was all part of the appeal for Angela. Something about the way you shuddered and twitched whenever you stepped into the base’s medical division just ignited her maternal instincts, and she wanted nothing more than to protect you. It never occurred to her that you might have been more afraid of her than the atmosphere, and she certainly wasn’t thinking about this once she had you.

Whatever it was that scared you the most in the beginning no longer mattered. You were now equally afraid of both Angela and her occupation as a doctor. She was kind and gentle with you, but you occasionally caught a terrifying gleam in her eye that suggested a certain depth you couldn’t even begin to understand. She took care of you, but at the same time, she seemed like she wanted to ruin you.

While she was never outwardly unpleasant, the one unpleasant thing she regularly insisted on was check-ups. Things like medication and vaccinations always scared you, and it was even worse to have to get them from someone who kidnapped you. But Angela was a licensed doctor who had never attempted to harm you in the past; you supposed there were worse people who could have captured you.

Naked, you shuffled self-consciously to the examination table and took a seat. Angela always wanted you bare before her for these check-ups, and you could never work up the courage to refuse her or even ask why. If ever you even thought about it, she would look at you with eyes cold as ice and it would shut you up instantly.

The way she examined you always made you uneasy. When she took a depressor to your tongue and peered into the back of your throat, you felt strangely vulnerable. Her slender fingers dragging the cool diaphragm of her stethoscope across your chest made you shiver, though you stiffened immediately when she occasionally groped and pinched at your breasts. You bore it all with sealed lips and a neutral expression, too scared to speak against her.

Her remark that you needed a particular vaccination was enough to crumble your stoic visage and nearly reduce you to a sobbing mess.

“A-Angela, please,” you begged, watching her produce a sterile needle with the appropriate bacteria in it. “I-I can’t, I’m terrified of needles. Please, I can’t…”

The doctor’s lips nearly quirked up in a tiny smile before she remembered to try to sympathize with your fear. She moved in to put a comforting hand on your cheek, but you instinctively flinched back. Frowning now, she grabbed an alcohol swab and began wiping down a patch of skin on your arm. “Don’t be scared. It’s for your own good, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

The more the proximity between you and the needle shrank, the more resistance she expected out of you. However, Angela was surprised to see your tense body become slack and pliant. In fact, you would have fallen over if she hadn’t been there to catch you. She looked down at you, worried that you’d actually passed out from the fear, but you just stared back at her with blurry, half-lidded eyes. “It’s going to hurt… please, I don’t want it to hurt…”

You were so pitiful and pathetic that it really tug on Angela’s heartstrings. She smiled gently at you and pushed you back up into a sitting position before moving behind you to support your back with her chest. From this angle, her free hand had the range to touch you as much as she pleased. This time, when she groped your chest and smoothed her palm over your belly, you accepted it. Your compliance emboldened her to creep her hand between your legs, where she quickly worked you into a slick state of arousal. You must have really been feeling it, as you didn’t even flinch when she stuck you with the needle. “Oh, _liebling_ … Mommy’s going to make you feel so good you won’t even think about the pain.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Oh so you do omegaverse? Can i please have alpha brigitte fucking her fem s/o very VERY hard during the heat, at the point that when it's over she has to put some ointment on her s/o scratches and bites as a little "sorry". Just dubcon would be nice. Thanks.
> 
> brigitte lindholm
> 
> contains: dubcon, a/b/o dynamics/omegaverse, rough sex

Brigitte knew better than to be pulled in by your heat, to get carried away by your sweet scent when you both had yet to discuss your desires for the future, and whether or not you wanted a family. She tried her damnedest to resist her primal urges as she carried you off to your nest of her clothing, and she pleaded with you to try to endure while she went off to get a refill of your suppressors. But you clung desperately to her and refused to be separated from her, burying your nose into the crook of her neck and mewling that you needed her.

You had already decided what you wanted, it seemed, as you batted at her clothes in a needy attempt to communicate that you wanted them off of her. Before your words could fail you completely, you pressed sloppy kisses and nibbles against her jawline and whimpered, “Brigitte, please… I don’t want pills, I want you.”

She furrowed her brows and licked her lips, which had inexplicably grown dry. The sight just inspired you to lean in and kiss her, as clumsy as your motions were. When you pulled away from her, you gave her bottom lip the slightest nibble and tug, and that was enough to completely rid her of her inhibitions.

With a soft growl, she turned from your nest and made a beeline for your shared bed instead. She dropped you unceremoniously and watched through hazy eyes as you writhed and whined before her. You yielded to her body with ease as she practically ripped her shirt off over her head and crawled on top of you.

Brigitte didn’t waste any time in pulling her sweats down her thighs and shoving into you in one powerful thrust. You cried out, only to be instantly shut up by a gnashing kiss. Once she’d gotten her fill of your lips, she lowered her mouth to your neck and chest to smother you with kisses and bites there. It felt good until her actions grew a little too harsh and her bites became painful.

“B… Brigitte,” you breathed, bracing her biceps and hoping she would get the idea to back off a little bit. Your gentle touch only seemed to spur her on further, as she pulled out briefly to flip you onto your stomach and spear right back into you. The stretch was more painful now that her knot was beginning to swell inside of you, but the feeling was nothing compared to her teeth on your neck. Turning your head the other way, you reached back in an effort to tame her wild hips against your ass. “B-Brig, wait, it hurts…”

Now, it seemed, she was more far gone than you were initially. Brigitte’s face was buried in your scent glands and your smell led her to an intoxicating high that prevented her from thinking straight. She ignored your cries of pain in favor of chasing her release, which appeared to be close if her harsh thrusts were any indication.

You squealed again as her canines dug particularly deep into the meat of your shoulder. Glancing back, you thought you saw your own blood dribbling out from between her lips and you tried again to get her to calm down. “Brig, stop–”

To subdue you, her palm fell flat between your shoulder blades and pushed you down flat onto your belly as she forced her fat knot past your tight opening. The rush of liquid heat into your insides burned at first, but you were soon overcome with a soothing feeling as Brigitte’s strong arms wrapped around your midsection in a guarding embrace. You hissed at the first contact of her tongue against the deeper bites she’d left on you, but you were able to relax when you realized she was trying to comfort you. “Sorry,” she whispered, brows creased with worry. Both of you were significantly more level-headed now. “I was supposed to be taking care of you, but…”

“It’s okay,” you replied shyly. “I guess I did sort of ask for this.”

While waiting for her knot to go down, Brigitte did what she could and tried to plant apologetic kisses and licks on the wounds she’d inflicted on you. Once she could pull away, she left you briefly to grab a first aid kit. She iced your bruises and cleaned your wounds, apologizing all the while. Thinking you wanted time away from her, she even tried to leave once you were all patched up. But you clung to her just as you had when you were in the throes of your heat and convinced her that all you wanted was some tender skinship with your alpha.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: If your ask box isn't too full may I please request countess widowmaker catching a werewolf reader to keep as a pet?
> 
> contains: chasing, werewolf, pet play

Being the terrifying beast that you were, you never once knew the terror of the hunter becoming the hunted until a certain countess locked you in her crosshairs. Though you were a werewolf, you elected to live in solitude rather than among a pack. No one to have to look out for, but at the same time, no one to watch your back but yourself.

You thought you had the advantage of keen eyes well-adjusted to the dark, but it turned out you were in no position to underestimate the countess’ own advantages in terms of vision when a bullet whizzed past your twitching ear. To avoid any more incoming bullets, you ducked around at the expense of speed. A poor decision to make, in hindsight, seeing as she could easily close the distance between you and her with a single well-placed grapple hook.

That she even knew to hunt you when you’d be at your weakest indicated to you that you must have been under her watch for a long time. You didn’t know what you’d done to attract the attention of a human. You kept to yourself, only attacking those who were foolish enough to set foot onto your territory. Though you never ventured out towards the nearby village, locals who knew of your presence promised a handsome reward to anyone who could manage to extinguish you. You briefly considered that she was after that bounty, but she looked far too wealthy a person to be interested in that. What else was left then? The glory?

Lost in your racing thoughts, you couldn’t avoid the second bullet that flew by you, this time nicking your cheek. You hissed not only from the pain of being struck, but also due to an additional and foreign sting. Her bullets must have been made from silver. She was nailing her shots with higher precision the longer she pursued you, and you were done for if you allowed a shot in a far more lethal place.

Your concern was a self-fulfilling prophecy, it seemed, as you could do nothing to prevent a bullet from finding itself solidly planted in the meat of your thigh. You fell with a howl and clutched your wounded leg, experiencing a very particular type of agony that only accompanied being struck by silver. You could hear only the wind and your own labored breaths until a whipping sound followed by heels on dirt cut through the relative silence of the night. The countess loomed over you and tilted her head, like she was appraising you.

You wanted to bark at her and demand who she was, but the pain was so great you could only let out the most pathetic whimper.

That brought a cruel smile to her face as she squatted down to get a better look at you. One slender hand slipped off of her gun to grab you by the chin, turning you this way and that so she could examine your features under moonlight. Being looked down on in such humiliating manner ignited just enough within you to speak. “Wh-who are you? What do you want with me?”

She tilted her head again, pulling back from you and casually perching her gun over her shoulder while her other hand slipped into the breastpocket of her jacket. Her nonchalance was like salt in the wound; you already knew you were powerless to her whims, and her behavior was a cruel reminder. “Me? I’m a huntress. Some people appreciate what I do, and others don’t. Those who don’t, want to see me dead.”

Your breaths were ragged until she withdrew her hand from the inside of her jacket. Seeing what she pulled out made your heart stop, and then race faster than it had since this entire pursuit began.

“And from you,” she cooed, fastening the collar tight around your throat, “I want a guard dog.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Ahhh I just found you and was wondering if I could have some nsfw yanMoira with a young fem assistant who just is enamored by Moira. Like just always trying to do her best for her and just thinks Moira is the single best fucking thing (cause she is like 😥)  
> could you maybe do a blurb of Moira getting off on pissing all over the reader's face and making them drink as they eat her out?
> 
> contains: omorashi/watersports, abuse of authority, face sitting

Moira hated the idea of having an assistant. Rather, she liked the idea, but she found the practice of having an assistant to ultimately fall short of her expectations.

You worked too slow for her liking, were always standing where you shouldn’t have been, and you spent more time staring at her with those hopelessly lovesick eyes than you did actually helping her research. Moira felt like she got less work done when you were around because she always had to keep an eye on you and make sure you weren’t screwing anything up. Your romantic interest in her was far from flattering, and honestly more of a nuisance for her. All she wanted from you was for you to do your job.

As in any other lab session, you were so focused on impressing Moira that your work was sloppy, resulting in something she had to take over and fix for you. Even now, as she cleaned up your mess, you still stood far too close and stared at her through rose-colored lenses. That you always caused problems from which you never learned was a very rich source of stress in her life, stress that she hasn’t exactly had the leisure to deal with lately. One glance back at your wonderstruck face was all the motivation she needed to resolve that stress right now.

Pulling off her gloves with a snap that seemed to wake you from your reverie, Moira looked down her nose as she approached you. You scrambled to straighten up and meet her gaze, but you were quick to meekly return your eyes to the floor. At least you had the sense to tell when you were about to receive a scolding. “If you’re unsure of the next course of action to take,” she said crisply, “tell me. So we can avoid incidents like this in the future.”

“Y-yes, Dr. O’Deorain,” you stammered, and she waited for the inevitable ‘but’ to follow. “…But I’ve already had to ask for your help so many times, I didn’t want to distract you any more…”

“I suppose that says a lot about you, then? Always having to rely on me for everything,” she snapped, and the hopeful gleam faded from your eyes. Then she replayed her own statement back to herself again, thinking that she quite liked the sound of it. You relied on her for everything. This was true in the lab and it often exacerbated her stress, but when she applied a different context to it, she could feel her stress give way to excitement. She thought you owed her for being so dependent. Finally, she could think of a way for you to make yourself useful. “You want to be of use to me?”

Your head shot up and you nodded, all too eager to get yourself back into her good graces. A smile spread across Moira’s face as she grabbed your shoulder, gently at first and then a bit more bruising so she could force you into the position she wanted you in. Confused but ultimately submissive, you fell to your knees and allowed her to push you down onto your back on the floor. You watched her move around from above you and you couldn’t help but ask, “What do you need me to do, Dr. O’Deorain?”

She didn’t answer, instead placing her boots on either side of your head while her slender fingers reached for the lapels of her labcoat, sweeping it aside. Your eyes widened and your cheeks ignited when she started to undo her belt.

“D-Dr. O’Deorain,” you started to say, but you were abruptly cut off when Moira lowered herself to sit on your face. Your lips moved and your tongue peeked out in an effort to speak before you could think better of what was happening, and the inadvertent contact against Moira’s erect clit made her shiver. Dumbstruck, you still tried to move away.

She snatched you by your hair to keep you where you were and ground down hard against your open mouth, trying to increase the friction. It was difficult to get herself off when you were too stupefied to properly react, so she tugged your hair painfully to serve as your motivation. “Go on. Make yourself useful to me.”

You were still stunned, but you didn’t need to be told twice by the woman with whom you were so hopelessly in love. Your tongue poked out tentatively, only to gain some fervor from the positive reception of her wildly bucking hips. You kissed and lapped at every inch of her you could reach until a rough, guiding hand pulled you up and forced you to focus on her clit. Still, you serviced her with vigor and Moira could feel the stress practically lift away from her body.

When your hands came up to try to hold onto her thighs, she swatted them away and punished you by seating herself deeper against your face. Your arms flailed by your sides to indicate you were having a hard time breathing, but didn’t dare attempt to touch her anymore. At least you were a fast learner in this regard. She ground her hips down against your mouth in a circular motion and both your moans spilled out at the same time. “If you want to be able to breathe again, you’ll have to finish me off sooner.”

You paused before trying to do as she said, seemingly more motivated by the desire to please her than to be able to breathe. That thought worked in tandem with your clumsy but eager tongue in bringing her to the edge, and Moira came with a gush of fluids that she forced you to drink up. But the more she looked you over, she came to the conclusion that you would have swallowed it all without even being coerced.

Moira sat back, her slender chest puffing hard as she caught her breath from the first and most satisfying orgasm she’d had in weeks. The experience was only made better by the look of love drunk joy on your stupid face, causing her lips to curl up into a smirk. She grabbed you by the chin, fingers piercing into your wet cheeks as she cooed, “Looks like we’ve finally found something you’re good for.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: since you were kind of feeling some brigitte... how about a situation where one of the heroes is introducing her to other team mates (since she is new to OW) and they introduce her to cute secretary or tech worker reader and baguette cant help but become obsessed and take her? hopefully this interests you!!!!
> 
> contains: noncon, kidnapping

“Oh, wow,” Brigitte breathed, her heart suddenly beating fast. Reinhardt’s booming voice as he gave her a tour of the facility now sounded so distant when all she could focus on was you. You appeared to be a tech worker, if your uniform was any indication, and you were currently in a conversation with Winston. Too preoccupied with the kindly scientist, you were completely oblivious to Brigitte and your effect on her.

Reinhardt, too, was too preoccupied with his tour to realize his squire was no longer paying attention. He just put his hands on his hips and proudly remarked, “Yes, it’s awe-inspiring, isn’t it? All these years later and everything’s exactly as it used to be!”

“Yeah,” Brigitte replied mindlessly, only vaguely aware of what he was saying to her. She just couldn’t peel her eyes away from you, and the moment you laughed at something Winston had said was the moment Cupid’s arrow found its mark right on her heart. Suddenly, the idea of touring the facility had lost all its luster. All she wanted to do was get to know you.

\---

Your main duty seemed to be repairing weapons, mechs, and even your omnic co-workers if ever it reached that point. That presented to Brigitte the perfect opportunity to regularly occupy your work area to fix up her own armor, and to strike up conversation with you.

You were every bit as lovely as she’d dreamed you were. Your smile was bright and your aspirations were brighter, as you’d often expressed that you wanted to help make the world a better place, even from the sidelines. Brigitte would never tell you, but she preferred things this way as well. The thought of you facing danger head-on on the battlefield was too much for her to bear. But, she thought, at least she would be there to protect you and be your shield. At least she would know where you were and how you were doing at all times.

Then, one afternoon, you surprised her with the news of your transfer to another Overwatch facility a good distance away. As the organization got back on its feet and started to expand, it needed more workers elsewhere, and the higher-ups had apparently decided that you fit the bill. You seemed excited to have been noticed and to be able to bring your talents somewhere new, but Brigitte couldn’t stand the thought of being away from you. She couldn’t stand not knowing where you were and what you were doing at all hours of the day, and she detested that idea of helplessness so much that she had to act before it reached that point.

Her body moved before her mind did. Your work area was empty, save for the two of you, but it was still an open enough space that anybody could have strolled in. Without thinking, she picked you up and hoisted you over her shoulder, shoving you into a closet of spare parts before you could even think to scream. There, all of Brigitte’s passions came spilling forth and she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

“I won’t let you go,” she said, her voice a strange mix of decisive and vulnerable as she spoke between kissing you. Your arms were tense with fear at first, but then you started to fight her. As much as it pained Brigitte to treat you with anything less than gentleness and delicacy, she had to hold you down. Your skin was so soft and pliant under her touch, and she tried to focus on that instead of the bruises she was surely leaving behind. “I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

“Brigitte, what’re you– stop it–” you pleaded in a shaky voice, surely not expecting this sort of behavior from someone you’d thought was just a friend. Your arms were twisted behind your back and held fast by just one of her hands as the other got to work on unbuttoning your coveralls. You jolted at the feeling of her teeth dragging along your exposed collarbones, like she was starving and you were the only thing that could sate her. Then, she released your arms, but only to lift you up against the wall to slide your coveralls down your legs, leaving you bare and disheveled before her. As scared as you were and as much as you detested it, you held onto her neck for balance. “P-please, please stop–”

Brigitte’s guilt was palpable and evident to you by the troubled expression on her face, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop now. She treasured you for more than your body, truly, but getting this far just to end things prematurely seemed like such a waste. “Just a little more,” she said, frighteningly determined.

“N-no, what’re you gonna do?” you questioned, though you weren’t sure you needed a verbal answer when she hoisted you up and threw your legs over her shoulders. Space in the closet was tight and Brigitte was quite tall to begin with, so you had to lean forward at an awkward angle and practically cradle her head between your legs. You could feel the seat of your panties get pushed aside, followed by Brigitte’s hot breath against your pussy. “Stop, please!”

She tensed, remorseful that she was about to do something you didn’t want, but she wasn’t remorseful enough to stop. The wide flat of her tongue dragged across your velvety lips, and she convinced herself that you were shivering from excitement and not fear. Since she couldn’t see your face, she could imagine a blissed out, pleasured expression instead of the terror that probably plagued your features right now. She convinced herself that you were feeling good so that she could keep pushing you without hesitation.

The feeling of two thick fingers abruptly plunging into you made you bite your lip, but every stroke just felt so divine that you couldn’t stop yourself from crying out. Brigitte quickly found an oversensitive bundle of nerves that drove you wild with just the slightest touch, and the added stimulation of her lips around your clit had you spiraling towards an orgasm you never consented to.

Brigitte held you through your release, only loosening her grip once your body stilled after an ebbing wave of spasms. Slowly, she slid to the floor with you in her arms, and she admired how your face was flushed and lightly sweaty from such exertion. You seemed to be in a daze until you caught her eye, and then you remembered just what had happened to you. You prepared to scream, but Brigitte was just a tiny bit quicker to react.

Her palm slammed over your mouth as she raised a finger to her lips. The look on her face was ultimately apologetic, but her eyes were wild. It was something you’d never seen before, and it terrified you. You whimpered against her hand as she leaned in towards you, pressing her forehead against yours and forcing you to look at her. “I… like you,” she confessed, realizing this was probably something she should have started with before forcing herself on you. But it was too late to back out now. Her lips took the place of her hand over your mouth so she could better hold down your squirming body. She mumbled between kisses, “I don’t want you to go… so… I’m going to keep you here with me, all right?”

“B-Brigitte,” you stammered once she gave you a moment for breath, and it broke her heart to see tears streaming down your face.

Wiping them away with a gentle thumb, she tried to soothe her own racing heart by convincing herself that you wanted to stay just as badly as she wanted to keep you here. “No one’s sending you anywhere. I’ll keep you safe, somewhere no one else will find you, okay?”

Your lips quivered and you let out an anguished sob, your head falling forward in resignation.

Since she couldn’t see your pained expression, Brigitte was able to pretend you’d let out a soft laugh instead. The lie brought a smile to her face as she became the slightest bit reassured that she was right in what she was doing. “We’ll always be together.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Can i please have alpha pharah wrestling with her fem omega s/o, she starts some noncon dry hump like when she could find herself between reader's legs but then her rut just hits and it turns into fucking against the floor? basically wrestling to groping to fucking, thank you XD
> 
> contains: noncon, a/b/o dynamics/omegaverse

In general, Fareeha considered herself to be a patient person. Perhaps she wasn’t as sweet and gentle about it as someone like, say, Angela, but she wasn’t completely stonehearted. She simply put a premium on discipline and respect, and you were trying her last nerve.

Admittedly, the two of you didn’t exactly hit it off like a pair of star-crossed lovers when you first met. When Fareeha first saw you, she knew you were the omega she wanted to claim, but you were hesitant to share her sentiment. She tried to help you see things her way with a gentle push every now and again, but you were so sensitive. You found her pursuit of you to be so aggressive that you did everything in your power to avoid her. Which, as an omega, didn’t mean much.

It wasn’t consensual when Fareeha decided you would be living with her. You wouldn’t go willingly, so she had to bring you along through forceful means to complete her vision of a life shared between you both. In spite of being an omega, you had an annoying habit of resisting her and talking back. Fareeha was lenient at first, thinking you would grow out of this behavior the longer you were with her, but you just wouldn’t back down. It was only natural that she would snap.

The look on your face when Fareeha abruptly dragged you into a training room, announcing that you both needed to blow off steam with a good workout, was priceless and something she would never forget. Dumbfounded confusion suited you better than that infuriating sneer you wore whenever you antagonized her.

She pulled you over onto padded flooring, already rolling her shoulders and relieving the kinks in her muscles. Your once vulnerable expression quickly hardened into a glare as you demanded, “What are you doing?”

“We are going to spar,” she replied, as if it were obvious. “Let’s see if your body is anywhere near as tough as your mouth.”

You stood awkwardly before her as she moved into an offensive position, and it was heavily apparent that you didn’t know the first thing about hand-to-hand combat. Fareeha could see the hesitation and stiffness in your body language, so she capitalized on it with a quick pin to the ground. You fell, your soft body yielding easily to hers, and exerted far too much energy just trying to wrench her hands off of your arms. Once you tired yourself out, she flipped you over onto your stomach and held your legs down with her own.

This skinship did more for Fareeha than she realized, even if it was in the context of a spar. You never let her get too close, and for a while, she convinced herself it was enough just to have you. But to feel you squirm beneath her and rub up against her was too much all at once, and it encouraged her to lose herself entirely. Without thinking, she dipped her nose down to nudge against the scent glands on the back of your neck, and you stiffened distinctly.

Craning your neck to look over your shoulder, you whimpered, “F-Fareeha?”

The sound of your voice sent a shot of arousal straight down her core. Now you were beginning to sound like the submissive little omega she’s always wanted, and she wanted to push you further. The more she ground against your backside, the quicker she worked herself up into a full-blown rut.

Once you felt her hard arousal against the back of your thigh, you realized what her intentions were and fought even more violently to get away. Fareeha was just too strong for you to overcome, and you were forced to lie there and take it as she ripped your pants and underwear away from your vulnerable form. Too impatient to wait for your body to respond in kind to her own, she shoved in entirely without regard for your comfort.

The harsh friction against your tight, unprepared walls pulled pained screams from your throat and abundant tears from your eyes. You clawed at the padding beneath you in a vain attempt to get away, but Fareeha held your waist down firmly. She dipped back down to your neck, licking and biting whatever her gnashing teeth could get to. No matter how much you cried, she wouldn’t let you go.

Finally, when she finished, you were slick enough for her to pull out with relative ease. Fareeha’s initial anger was sated now after such a satisfying orgasm, and she looked you over as she caught her breath. You weren’t nearly as refreshed, evident in the way you trembled and sobbed beneath her. Upon closer inspection, she noticed little drops of blood painting both your neck from where she’d bitten you and your inner thighs. Apparently it was painful enough to make you cry, as you couldn’t stop even after she pulled herself off of you.

Maybe it was a bit awful to admit it, but Fareeha quite liked seeing you like this. You looked just broken enough for her to put back together again, and it was something she kept in mind as she carried you off to bed for some sweet aftercare.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Omegaverse Overwatch? Maybe Alpha Reader and Alpha Brigitte? Brigitte falling in love with Alpha reader, and so takes them, trying to make them into a submissive Omega?
> 
> contains: noncon, kidnapping, a/b/o dynamics/omegaverse

“Where are you off to, _älskling_?”

You froze where you were, unable to tell if it was more from fear or a sheer lack of strength. Slowly, you looked over your shoulder to see the chilling smile of your captor and the cold, unreadable eyes that accompanied it. You felt terribly small beneath Brigitte’s unflinching gaze, something you never would have thought you could feel prior to your forced containment.

You didn’t think much of Brigitte before. The two of you were neither enemies nor close acquaintances, but simply co-workers. You could tell just by looking at her, but you’d also been previously informed that Brigitte was an alpha, just like you. It was odd, then, when she displayed certain behaviors around you that suggested she was interested in having you as a mate. At first, you just assumed that the true object of her attraction was someone else who happened to be in the same space as you, but you quickly found that you seemed to be the only common factor whenever she acted like this. The longer you tried to ignore her, the more aggressive she became until the smell of her hormones drove you mad. Your biology had you well-equipped to begin fighting her, but others in the area intervened and separated you both before anything drastic could happen.

After that, you didn’t see much of Brigitte. Feeling that the spat was partially your fault due to an overreaction, you went to her quarters to offer an apology. There, you were unexpectedly struck and knocked out cold. When you came to, Brigitte already had you right where she wanted you and she explained to you her intentions.

Once she started, she didn’t stop until she got everything out. You heard about her firm conviction that it was love at first sight when she met you, and how she agonized over the fact that you both seemed destined to be apart. The most chilling part of her story, however, was when she decided that she wouldn’t let anything keep you from her, not even your biology. You could be changed, she insisted, into the perfect little omega she’d always dreamed of.

Ever since then, she’d been systematically weakening you by means ranging from starvation to deprivation of movement or sunlight. Before Brigitte got her hands on you, you were probably on par with her in terms of physical appearance and capability. Now, however, you looked like a skeleton in comparison to your former self, and you felt like a ghost. You’d lost more than just your physique; your exuberant personality was long gone and your mind was starting to go due to the harsh conditions under which Brigitte ‘trained’ you. However, she didn’t seem to mind. All that mattered for her was the fact that you were by her side, even if you weren’t you anymore.

With ease, Brigitte placed her hands beneath you and swept you off your feet. You only realized your frail body was shaking when her comparatively firm torso was pressed against you. The smile never left her face, nor did it ever reach her eyes. “Wandered out of your room again, did you? Oh, _mitt hjärta_. What am I going to do with you?”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Hhhhh I love all of your work! Any nsfw head canons for Professor Ziegler (bonus points for noncon)? Please and thank you! -ps. Happy Halloween!
> 
> contains: age difference, teacher student relationship

Dr. Ziegler

-She is so adored that her classes fill up immediately the instant registration is open. Semester after semester, you trudged your way through waitlists only to be rejected each time. Then, once you got early access to registration, you finally got into one of her classes.  
-On the first day, you make a point to sit at the front of the room. You want to make a good first impression and somehow endear yourself to her when you’re just one face in a huge lecture hall.  
-Even professors as good as Dr. Ziegler see attendance thin out as the semester drags on. But you’re a loyal student, attending each class and always presenting your best efforts. Your sustained presence in her class achieves the result of making you stick out in her mind.  
-It’s when she first calls you by name that you realize your pulse seems to quicken whenever she’s around. You realize your admiration for her has somehow turned to infatuation. It’s such a shameful crush to be having at your age that you agonize over whether or not you should keep going to class.  
-You decide to, and it proves to be the best decision of your life.  
-You’re so wrapped up in your own head over the matter that you’d never noticed the way Dr. Ziegler stared at you. How she always spoke your name with fondness, and how she was much gentler when grading your work.  
-That day it’s tough to pay attention, and all you want is to leave as soon as possible. But when class is up, she calls for your attention and asks you to stay behind.  
-One thing leads to another and you both find yourselves back in her office, unable to keep your hands off of each other. You take a submissive role for a number of reasons, but something tells you the choice was never really yours anyway.  
-It’s hard to believe that sweet, kind, angel-faced Dr. Ziegler could throw you down against her desk with such force and work you so furiously over the edge, but you now know firsthand the things she can do.  
-It’s all wrong and so unethical, but you’re happy. Dr. Ziegler hopes you stay happy. It’s easier to keep you by her side when you’re willing and she would hate to have to resort to nastier measures.


End file.
